These Words
by Lyra G. Rowin
Summary: Blaine comes down with laryngitis three days before Valentine's Day. Originally written for the kurt blaine KissKiss Exchange. A certain plot device here is lovingly borrowed from a certain Christmas movie.


Notes:This story was originally written for the kurt_blaine KissKiss Exchange on LJ almost two months ago, prior to Silly Love Songs, and thus is belated Valentine's Day fluff. Also, this is randomly established relationship. This goes out to all you lovelies who have commented on/favorited/read my previous stories. I can't believe I'm still getting notifications trickling in on things I wrote back in November!

Well, fuck. This was just absolutely delightful.

It was February 11th, T-minus three days until Valentine's Day, and Blaine had lost his voice. And not in the exaggerated sense of the phrase where he was actually just a little hoarse; his voice was full-on _gone_. He woke up on that Friday morning feeling fine, if a bit under the weather, but when he tried to say good morning to Wes nothing came out except for a silly little strangled whisper. He felt like Ariel in _The Little Mermaid_ after she'd sold her voice to Ursula. Although he already had his prince, so the parallel didn't really make any sense from there.

In an ordinary week, this wouldn't be so bad. His only symptoms were a slight cough and absolutely no voice. This meant he couldn't talk, or worse, sing, but if he just kept quiet he'd be fine in a few days. However, he didn't _have_ a few days, because Monday was Valentine's Day, and this year, Blaine actually had a boyfriend with which to celebrate the occasion. But having no voice meant that he couldn't make out with Kurt on Valentine's Day, or serenade him, or even actually talk to him. Blaine had _plans_, damn it, plans that revolved around having a _voice._

He'd have to figure something out. Hopefully Kurt wouldn't want to cancel their plans altogether; Blaine knew how protective Kurt was of his voice (he'd cried when his voice was hoarse the day after the McKinley football game), and he would _kill_ him if he caught whatever bug Blaine had. So Blaine spent a few minutes before class on WebMD looking up the specifics of laryngitis, then went down to the dining hall and snuck out some orange juice in a giant thermos before barely making it to physics on time.

Luckily David had this class with him, so he could explain to Mrs. Griffith that Blaine couldn't talk. Hey, it got him out of being called on to give the answers to the homework for a day, so he wasn't complaining. Unfortunately, after that class Blaine usually met up with Kurt in the hallway for a bit – he loved that the two of them had only been at the same school for two months and they already had a routine going. So as the bell rang Blaine left the classroom and took up his usual post against the wall, waiting for Kurt to get out of British lit.

"Hey, stranger!" Kurt walked over with a smile and a flirty little wave. Blaine smiled and opened his mouth to say "hey," but all that came out was a squeak. Oh, shit. This wasn't going to work. He frowned and held up one finger as he began to rummage through his bag for something to write with.

"What's up? Is this some Day of Silence thing, because I'm pretty sure that's not until April…" Kurt said, confused.

Blaine shook his head and uncapped a pen, having finally found an old composition notebook that he could write in. He scribbled one word – "laryngitis" – and turned it so Kurt could see, accentuating the message with an exaggerated pout.

"Oh! Well, that's awfully unfortunate." Kurt's frown carried more weight than a slight cold virus would usually merit, so his train of thought must be taking a direction similar to the one Blaine's had. "How do you feel otherwise?"

Blaine made a "so-so" gesture and faked a cough, demonstrating his symptoms, then shrugged – "what can you do?" Kurt smiled sympathetically.

"Well, I hope you feel better soon. Make sure you get some rest this evening, and drink plenty of—" Blaine held up his thermos of orange juice with a grin and Kurt laughed. "Okay then. Clearly you don't need me to take care of you." Blaine pouted and batted his eyelashes; Kurt rolled his eyes. "But I will if you really want me to."

Blaine grinned again. Kurt continued, "Well, I guess I should let you get to class unless you want to practice your mime routine some more."

Blaine scrawled in his notebook, _"But I can also write to you!"_

Kurt laughed when he saw the page. "Yes, I suppose you can. So I guess you won't be at Warblers practice this afternoon?"

Blaine's eyes widened in horror. He whipped his copy of _The Dalton Academy Warblers Handbook_ out of his bag and opened it to page four, thrusting it in Kurt's face and jabbing his finger at the line, _"All Warblers must attend all practices except in the case of family emergency, religious observance, or serious illness with a doctor's note."_

"You carry that thing on your person?" Kurt said after he'd read the policy in question.

"You don't?" Blaine whisper-squeaked, too incredulous to write it down.

"I may have accidentally used a couple pages to line Pavarotti's cage?" Kurt winced as Blaine sputtered in silent outrage. If Kurt weren't his boyfriend, he might have had to write him up for such a blatant disrespect of the Warbler code. "Well, I should be getting to French, see you later!" Kurt waved and walked away quickly, and at the sound of the warning bell Blaine headed off in the opposite direction.

Blaine's next two classes passed without incident, despite his perilous illness. In world history they just had an essay exam, and in Latin Blaine again avoided being called on to demonstrate his abysmal pronunciation. The v's-sounding-like-w's thing always confused him.

Lunch, on the other hand, was… interesting. Blaine sat, as he usually did, with Kurt, Wes, David, and two other Warblers, Jonathan and Steven. Blaine and Kurt were both nibbling at their food and passing the notebook back and forth between them, sharing anecdotes about their mornings – Kurt had insisted that he write, too, so that the tempo of the conversation wasn't off. Wes kept rolling his eyes and sighing exasperatedly at them, while David was mostly ignoring everybody, attempting to finish a grueling assignment for Calc II.

"So, do you two lovebirds have any big plans for Valentine's Day?" Steven asked as he sat down at their little round table.

Both of them looked up and exchanged glances. Blaine was usually terrible at making plans, and the one time he'd let Kurt take charge of planning a date, there had been timetables and a dress code involved, so since then Kurt had tried to back off. However, Blaine actually _did_ have plans this time; he just hadn't completely run them by Kurt yet.

Kurt's expression wavered. "Well, if Blaine's sick we may have to postpone things a bit…"

Blaine shook his head and wrote, _"I'll be fine by Monday. Really, all that's wrong with me is I can't talk. And I do have a plan, but it's a surprise. _;)_"_

Kurt read it and smiled at Blaine. "Okay, if you two are just going to pass love notes back and forth and smile sickeningly at each other all day, I'm taking that notebook away from you," Wes interjected, reaching across the table.

"No! No! No! No! No!" yelled Kurt and, surprisingly enough, David, who had momentarily abandoned his work and lunged halfway across the table.

Wes looked at David, confused. "Why does it matter to you?"

David shrugged embarrassedly. "It doesn't. I just thought it was cute, that's all."

Wes snorted. "Okay, clearly I've been outvoted here." He held his hands up in a show of defeat.

"And hey, it's gotten Blaine to shut up for a day, so don't complain," David added.

"Apparently everyone's forgotten that I asked a question, like, ten minutes ago," said Steven, changing the subject. "Interpret, please." He gestured to Kurt and the notebook.

Jonathan joined the table and set his tray down as Kurt laughed and turned to Blaine excitedly. "Oh my God, I'm totally like Annie Sullivan and you're Helen Keller! Except you can write… and see… and hear…"

"Do the Helen Keller and talk with yo hips!" Jonathan added in a singsong, doing some exaggerated pelvic thrusts before sitting down. Steven laughed; Wes, as usual, was not amused.

Blaine was just blushing furiously as he wrote, _"I was thinking more along the lines of Ariel and Prince Eric."_

Kurt laughed. "That's even better! Blaine thinks he's like Ariel," he said to the table at large.

"The Little Mermaid," David, who had apparently been listening, added for the benefit of the unenlightened.

"Are you even getting _anything_ done?" asked Wes.

"Is anyone ever going to answer my question?" asked Steven.

"Ooh, can the Warblers do 'Kiss the Girl?'" asked Kurt, practically bouncing in his seat.

"No Disney," said Wes, Jonathan and Steven together.

"We had to cut Blaine off," Jonathan explained, "After we sang 'When She Loved Me' at Alcott Elementary at his suggestion, and he made five little girls cry."

Kurt looked at Blaine for confirmation and he grimaced ruefully, then wrote _"It seemed like a good idea at the time."_

In the lull in the conversation everyone then noticed Jonathan still singing to himself – "Shoosh, girl, shut your lips, do the Helen Keller…" – even adding some goofy hand gestures.

"You _had_ to get him started, didn't you," said Wes, smirking at Kurt.

Kurt ignored him and turned to Blaine. "Ooh, hey, do you know sign language? We could talk in sign language!"

Blaine didn't. He knew a few random signs, most of which were letters of the alphabet. However, he _did_ know the sign for "I love you." So he held up his hand with just his thumb, pointer finger, and pinky finger extended, and suddenly felt a rush of dread in his stomach. What if Kurt took this as some lame attempt at saying "I love you" for the first time and got all pissed about it? He could barely handle Kurt pissed on a good day, let alone three days before Valentine's Day.

"Are you telling me to rock on? That's not even sign language, Blaine." And Kurt turned back to his food.

Well, that was a relief. He loved that Kurt was smart, but his occasional naiveté could also be a blessing in disguise. Blaine exchanged glances with Steven, who clearly understood what had just happened, and shook his head subtly.

Steven nodded and again helpfully changed the subject. "All I remember from sign language is the letter 'J.'" He drew the shape of a J in the air with his pinky finger.

"I know how to say 'fuck you!'" Jonathan exclaimed. He did the sign and Wes gave him his best withering stare.

"We had this amazing substitute teacher at McKinley for a few days last semester who sang that song for us." The other boys all looked at Kurt in disbelief – David even looked up from his calculus, again. "Well, she was substituting for glee club." They continued to stare. "And she sang 'forget you'…"

"Why don't _we_ get any substitute teachers who are that awesome?" Jonathan whined to Wes, as he was the only authority figure present.

"Because they don't want to have to put up with your bullshit," Wes quipped, and then sipped his soda imperiously. Steven laughed and clapped while David let out a low whistle.

"And on that note, I have to get to the library to finish up some research for my biology paper, so I will see you all at practice later," Kurt said, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. He turned to Blaine, grabbed his hand and squeezed it, and whispered, "Bye."

"Bye," Blaine whispered back.

Going an entire day without talking was actually kind of peaceful, Blaine mused. It forced you to just shut up and listen to other people. He might make a good monk, if it weren't for the fact that he wasn't really sure where he stood on religion. And the whole chastity aspect didn't sound fun.

Blaine felt like an island of quiet in an ocean of noise (ooh, that was poetic; he'd have to write that one down) as he waited for Warblers practice to begin, until Kurt walked in and sat down next to him. All day, Kurt was the only one who hadn't avoided or ignored him just because he couldn't talk back. That might have something to do with the fact that Kurt talked enough for the both of them on a normal day, but Blaine appreciated it nonetheless.

"Hey," he croaked. His voice had gotten marginally better throughout the day, but he was still mostly inaudible.

"Oh no, you are resting your voice until you are _completely_ better, you hear me? I don't want you to try to talk – or sing – when you shouldn't, and end up permanently sounding like Rod Stewart." Blaine wasn't really sure it worked that way, but he nodded. "But I must say, you're taking this remarkably well," Kurt continued. "Last year Rachel had laryngitis for a week and she threw a total bitch-fit about it. She was afraid it would ruin her singing career forever. The worst part, though, was when she was still in denial about being sick and tried to sing 'The Climb' for her glee club assignment. Yes, by Miley Cyrus." Blaine winced. "I know. It would have been bearably bad on one of Rachel's good days, but as it was it was absolutely painful."

Blaine contemplated other awful songs he could playfully torture Kurt with at a later date, and was running through the Backstreet Boys' discography in his head as Wes called the meeting to order.

Wes was in the middle of a particularly long rant – something about arrangements or set-lists or who knows what – when Blaine noticed Kurt pull out his phone. Blaine's phone was still on silent, but a few seconds later he noticed the screen light up from where it was sitting on top of his bag, and nonchalantly picked it up to look at it.

_**From Kurt:**_ I have discovered another medium by which we can both communicate. :)

Blaine smiled, glanced up to make sure Wes wasn't paying attention to them, and tapped out a response.

_**To Kurt: **_I don't think you really "discovered" texting.

Kurt looked up to glare at him before responding:

_**From Kurt: **_Oh, shut up.

_**To Kurt: **_I haven't said a word all day!

_**From Kurt:**_ You know what I mean.

Kurt crossed his arms and pointedly ignored his phone, pretending that he was paying attention to the council.

_**To Kurt: **_Fine, I'll be good.

Kurt glanced at Blaine, who was now also feigning attention, before picking up his phone and responding.

_**From Kurt: **_I think texting during Warblers practice is the antithesis of "good," if we're going by your stupid handbook.

Blaine's mouth dropped open.

_**To Kurt: **_You tricked me. You planned this, didn't you?

_**From Kurt: **_Maaaaybe…

_**To Kurt: **_Are you just trying to get on Wes's bad side?

After reading the text Kurt simply looked at Blaine, shrugged one shoulder and quirked an eyebrow, as if to say "you caught me. So?" Blaine paused, trying to think of an adequate response, then had a wonderful, _awful_ idea.

_**To Kurt: **_You know what would annoy Wes even more?

_**From Kurt: **_?

_**To Kurt:**_ If he found out we were sexting.

Kurt let out a cute little noise of surprise that he managed to disguise as a cough, and Blaine did his best not to laugh.

_**From Kurt: **_Oh, baby. Tell me more. ;)

Blaine giggled silently before responding.

_**To Kurt:**_ What are you wearing?

_**From Kurt: **_I'm sitting right next to you.

_**From Kurt: **_And it's the same thing you're wearing.

_**To Kurt:**_ :O Kinky!

Kurt had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing audibly. Blaine continued:

_**To Kurt: **_That blazer looks great with your skin tone. :P

_**From Kurt: **_Oh really?

_**To Kurt: **_Maybe you should keep it on…

_**From Kurt: **_Considering we're in the middle of Warblers practice, I was planning on it.

Kurt looked up at Blaine and both boys then dissolved into laughter. Wes paused in the middle of his lecture. "Do I need to separate you two?"

And that was how Blaine ended up spending the rest of practice on the opposite side of the room from Kurt. But not before Kurt hissed at him, "For the record, I expect better from you next time. That was not sexting; that was just fashion advice."

David and Wes had Blaine sit out while they ran their tentative set for Regionals so that he could give them some (written) feedback. Blaine wasn't much help, though; he mostly just watched Kurt shoot seductive glances his way and realized that this must be how Kurt felt the first time he saw them perform "Teenage Dream."

Kurt's weekend passed in a blur of studying, talking to Mercedes on Skype, studying, complaining about how much he was studying, listening to David and Wes fret about what they were getting their girlfriends for Valentine's Day, and studying some more. Aside from a couple meals together and a few quick texts to check on how he was doing, Kurt barely talked to Blaine all weekend.

Wes gave some vague excuse about him having a lot of things to get done when Kurt asked, but Kurt was so busy buried neck-deep in Chaucer, calculus, and Darwinian theory that he barely had time to think about anything else. All of which lead to it quickly slipping Kurt's mind that Valentine's Day was Monday, and only remembering when he went down to breakfast and found the dining hall decorated with incredibly tacky paper hearts, and vases of flowers on all the tables.

He wasn't quite sure why an all-boys school had gone to such lengths over a traditionally boy-girl holiday, but appreciated the display, as otherwise he would have forgotten entirely and looked like an ass in front of Blaine. Kurt kind of hated Valentine's Day on principle, and not just because he'd been alone for it in every previous year – one should love the person they're with every day of the year, and not just on the day arbitrarily designated by the greeting card companies. But it was important to Blaine, so Kurt had agreed to do the whole exchanging presents, going on a special date thing… and then completely forgotten about it over the past two days, because he was a shitty boyfriend, and Blaine was going to break up with him, and then he'd have to cry to Mercedes, and listen to Rachel saying she told him so, and drop out of the Warblers because there was no way he could sing next to the guy who broke his heart, and… Kurt was getting ahead of himself.

Nevertheless, he spent the rest of the day acting like a skittish squirrel, and only talking to Blaine (or rather, "talking" – Blaine's voice still wasn't any better) long enough to establish that Blaine would meet him at his room at seven, and that he should dress nicely, whatever that meant. Screw Blaine's ignorance with fashion; telling him to dress _"nicely"_ was about as helpful as telling him he should wear clothes.

So Kurt was kind of a nervous wreck. He managed to drop a beaker full of water and shatter it during his biology lab, his world history professor asked him three times if he was feeling okay, because apparently he looked a little green, and he skipped lunch, ostensibly to do some more research in the library, but ended up spending half an hour staring at the Google homepage.

After classes – Wes had actually demonstrated some semblance of humanity and cancelled Warblers practice due to the holiday – Kurt holed up in his room trying to do homework and fretting some more. There was absolutely no time in which to procure any sort of present, so he'd have to just hope that Blaine would let him pay for dinner and let that count for something.

Kurt tried on seven different outfits before settling on one that he wasn't completely repulsed by, then spent fifteen minutes pacing back and forth, compulsively checking his watch, and eventually forced himself to sit down once he swore he was forming a threadbare patch in the carpet.

The knock on the door came at precisely 7:00 – Blaine was reliably punctual, as always. Kurt opened the door and said weakly, "Hi!" Blaine waved and flashed his dazzling grin at him. He was holding a boom box and what looked like a stack of poster board. Kurt wasn't sure whether to feel excited for whatever was about to happen, or even more guilty that he hadn't planned _anything._

Blaine set down his boom box and hit "play." A familiar piano intro drifted out of the speakers – Elton John's "Your Song." Blaine turned around his stack of cardboard as the song began, _"It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside…" _The first poster read, in Sharpie in Blaine's large, loopy handwriting, "If I had a voice right now" – he set the first poster on the ground, and the next one read, "I would be singing this for you." Kurt smiled and tried to control the fluttering in his stomach as Blaine set down the second poster.

"We only met three months ago" – and then the fourth and fifth posters: "But since you've come into my life," "It really has been wonderful." Kurt wasn't going to cry. He just had something in his eye; that was all. The next few posters read, "And I know on Valentine's Day," "I'm supposed to make some grand display of affection," "But today, there's only one thing I'd like to say."

Kurt's breath caught in his throat. Blaine set down another poster to reveal one reading, "I love you, Kurt Hummel." Blaine paused to meet Kurt's eyes, and Kurt smiled back and sniffled, completely speechless, his eyes full of happy tears. The next two posters read, "You don't have to say it back," "But I just wanted you to know." Blaine set down that poster; the last one read "Happy Valentine's Day, Kurt."

Blaine smiled self-consciously and gathered his posters into a neat stack, then said, his voice hoarse but much improved, "So yeah, that's what I'd been planning. As you can tell, I have my voice mostly back, but I spent all day Saturday making those posters so…" He laughed and ran a hand through his hair self-consciously. "I meant what I said, but if you could at least say _something_ back, that'd be great."

"Of _course_ I love you too, you big idiot," said Kurt, his voice thick.

"Oh. Well. Okay." Blaine grinned as Elton sang in the background, _"I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind that I put down in words, how wonderful life is, now you're in the world."_ Blaine continued, "I should probably be offended that you called me an idiot, but…"

"You know you love me." Kurt smirked playfully.

"I _do_ love you." Kurt gasped slightly; it was even better actually hearing it out loud. He felt like running and shouting to the entire dormitory – hell, to everyone he knew – that he had a boyfriend who was in love with him, but today was Valentine's Day, and there was only one thing he wanted to do.

"I kind of forgot to get you a present," Kurt admitted sheepishly. "So maybe this can count?" He grabbed Blaine by his tie and pulled him in for a kiss, as Elton John continued to sing approvingly in the background. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist, and Kurt walked backwards, continuing to pull Blaine into his room.

"Kurt…" Blaine said around the kiss. "Not that I'm not enjoying this, but I made dinner reservations…"

"Screw reservations," said Kurt, shutting the door behind Blaine.

"I'm probably going to get you sick…"

Kurt paused to consider this. "Well, we all have to make sacrifices sometimes." Blaine just laughed and pulled him in for another kiss. Valentine's Day might be Kurt's new favorite holiday.


End file.
